Independent Thinker
by Kerro-chan
Summary: The world changed. Independent AI's came round, some humans left some stayed. The future turned out ok, that doesn't mean that the police force can take a break. Indy and Ink are two androids in the D.B.A.P. protecting bioroids. During a case they meet Hitome, a bioroid without any memory from her past; while protecting her they discover more secrets about them selves and Hitome.


Independent Thinker

_"And so, many humans left the planet to locate more places and planets on which they could live; the majority of the population was composed of robots and androids and a minority of peaceful humans. But one of the only major crimes still committed on this world is the killing of human based androids; or Bioroids for short. These androids are created with synthetic skin, almost perfect replicas of human anatomy, and a red fuel source and, of course, the idea that they are completely human. It is considered a crime for someone to tell a Bioroid that they are not human and reveal to them their android body. If an accident were to happen and the Bioroid were to find out its true body then they are given the choice to have their memory wiped and forget what they learned. And with this we can go back to our earlier subject_…"

"About damn time, these informational videos take forever. Not to mention they make us watch them every other time something happens to a Bioroid." Indy whispered in an annoyed voice to his partner Ink.

"Yes and now thanks to you we have missed a bit of it so if you don't mind, do you think would it bother you to **shut up** for a bit!?" Ink bit back through gritted denta.

_"-and that is why the D.B.A.P.-the Department of Biological Android Protection- was created; to protect and serve these vital bridges between the humans and intelligent robots and androids. So on behalf of all Bioroids, thank you for your service._"

The movie ended with a blip and in the projector's beam of light, still filling the room with a faint glow, you could see little bits of dust wafting through the air. The sounds of stretching, groans, and sighs filled the room and as people and androids around Indy and Ink got up and began to shuffle out the door, someone remembered to turn the lights on and the projector off. Indy turned his face visor up to the ceiling and sat there gazing up into nothing for the next minute or so in his uncomfortable folding chair. Ink and Indy were both androids specially designed to work for the D.B.A.P. They once used to be the same A.I. called Independent Thinker but were split when 'technicalities' came up. Finally after minutes in silence; Ink pulled Indy from his daze with a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, we have some work left to do and then we can go home for some rest. Sound ok?"

"Sounds nice, but I highly doubt that **nothing's** going to happen between now and when our shift's done." Indy stuck his hands into his coat's pocket feeling for a bit of lint or a thread to mess with on the way back to the main work room from the conference room. Indy walked slowly, re-caught by his daze in the meeting room. It occurred to him that he did this often and wondered if there was a small loop or glitch that he had acquired while sifting through endless piles of data on the recent serial killings of Bioroids in the area. He let out a sigh through his vents and let himself fall into a bit of a slouch. He hadn't gotten a good recharge in days and over-stimulation was starting to make his main data processor give out late at night; what a human might call a headache, he thought to himself, glancing at another human, who also appeared to have a headache at the current moment. He walked over to his desk and sat down. He shifted his weight back and lounged in his chair. Planting his feet on the ground he pushed his swivel chair back and forth pondering on whether or not he should look through some more data or try to look for any new connections between the suspects they had and the victims. The next few hours would be long and frustrating.

"Damn." He muttered. Why there wasn't a kind of coffee for bot or roids. The main office was, as always, in a constant bustle. Phone calls, typing of keyboards, and conversations filled the room. It was always like this. Never still or quiet. Even in the early morning androids and robots were working away; and with the little sleep needed, they could work for almost a week with just minimum breaks.

"Oi, everyone listen up!" A loud voice boomed from the front of the room. "We just got another hit!"

"The Hell?"

"When was it?"

The room burst into chaos as people ran around looking at one of the main monitors that was just catching the last of the onsite report.

"_The latest in this string of murders was committed here not even three hours ago. The body was found by an officer just about half an hour ago and the news has spread like wildfire since…"_

"If that's so then why the hell have we only just heard about it?" someone in the crowd around Indy shouted at the screen.

"_The officer to find the body was an android by the name of Sabastian who…" _The monitor was suddenly turned off and everyone turned back to the front of the room to face the person responsible. Commissioner H_Ue stood on a small raised platform and looked out over the crowd.

"I want the rest of Seb's team there now to help with body diagnostic and on-site evidence gathering, and then I want a report from them by tomorrow at 3:00 sharp. Now get to it." Indy and Ink got up and excused themselves from the room before rushing down to the parking lot and racing off to the site of the murder.

Even though the alley was brightly lit with torches and even with the sounds of T.V. reporters, police sirens, and the clicking of cameras filled the narrow road, it was still somehow silent. Sabastian looked over his shoulder as he heard the rustle of the warning tape and turned to watch the approach of the team's medical examiner.

"Good evening Seb." Ink called to him.

"There's nothing good about it. I'm going to be seeing this one in particular in my nightmares for a while." His voice was grim as he called over his shoulder, turning back around to once more look down at lay in front of him.

"Its disgusting that some people think that this is what Bioroids deserve." The body laid out in front of him was mangled beyond belief and the arm had been ripped cleanly out of its resting joint socket. It looked completely human except for the all the fuel lines, coolant and an assortment of wires and red oils that were splattered across the alley. Ink logged a mental note that whoever was doing this had to be exceedingly strong, which just about eliminated humans from the list of suspects.

"Hey Thinker, what's going on in that head of yours?" Sabastian asked Ink. He noticed Indy standing near a wall where a rather large splattering of oil was. He shivered. How the heck does he not get grossed out by this? Never mind. Ink was responding to his question.

"I keep telling you not to call me by that name. You know both Indy and I hate our real names so please if you just call us Indy and Ink that would be nice." Ink's face was rigid and scowling. Not a pretty look.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit frustrated at the moment." He glanced back over at Indy and saw him talking to someone on his commlink. It was easy to see that whoever was on at the other end was making a decision that Indy really didn't like. Indy disconnected from the call and walked over to where they were standing. And for a minute they just stood there.

"We're being transferred to a different case." Indy said rather abruptly.

"Well that's- wait WHAT!? They can't transfer us! We've been leading this case since day one!" Both Indy and Sabastian were taken back by Ink's outburst simply because he was always so quiet. A noticeable slump had gotten into Ink's always perfect posture. He looked tired. They all were.

"They want us to go and scope out a casino where a crime syndicate is apparently running its gang from. And that's not all. We're being asked to watch over a Bioroid there as well. Apparently she received a threat letter. Her caretakers made a call so now we've been roped in to do the job." Indy finished with a sigh, leaned back against a wall and stood there for a minute; not thinking about anything in particular. "I hate my name" He said randomly. "Hey Ink"

"What?"

"Do you think that they'd ever let us take our body back?"

"Why on earth would you be thinking about that now? Of all places?" Ink was puzzled and annoyed by the nonsense coming out of Indy.

Indy lifted a hand to point back to the large splattering he had just been standing in front of. Walking over he leaned down to take a closer look. He froze. The arm that had been ripped from the socket lay on the ground. Oil coated the hand and a few of the fingers tips were worn raw to the point where the skin had been stripped away and the metal alloy could be seen. On the wall, written in fluids from the dead body was 'Look at this body, see, ITS NOT EVEN HUMAN.'

The three stood there. Neither Ink nor Sabastian could say a word as they looked at the writing.

"Well isn't that a bit cryptic." Sabastian broke the silence. His voice sounded awkward; as if he didn't know whether or not it was the right thing to say.

"Either way it's not our problem anymore." Indy pushed off the wall and started walking back to the main road where the news reporters were still going on about the case. He paused, his hand on the yellow warning tape. Commissioner H_Ue hadn't told him much about their new case, but none the less it was just enough for catch his interest. The Bioroid's name was Hitome and, apparently, had an unidentified body model.

"We think that she was stolen from somewhere and was given an illegal memory wipe. Find out what you can." H_Ue's last words still hung in his head. At least it would be different, he thought, finally moving under the tape. He walked through the crowd of reporters, dogging questions and requests for comments. He reached his car and unlocked the doors and got in. Turning it on, he flipped through the different radio channels until he found a channel playing some jazz and swing. It was older music, but he liked it. Letting out a content sigh through his vents, he fell back into the driver's chair and waited for Ink and Sabastian to join him.


End file.
